


Yuri Puber-setsky

by dilutedwater



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Puberty, Texting, Waffles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 18:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11949873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dilutedwater/pseuds/dilutedwater
Summary: This fic is part of a gift exchange of the yoi discord server i'm in (:1. On Chest Hair and Waffles





	Yuri Puber-setsky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Severe_Minx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severe_Minx/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuri discovers he has chest hair.  
> Waffles are mentioned.

Yuri Plisetsky stirred and rolled onto his side, nuzzling into Potya curled up next to his pillow. He cracked open an eye and stretched. ‘Ah, rest days are the best,’ feeling the sunlight warming his feet.

Begrudgingly he extricates himself from the embrace of his bed. He scratches an armpit while foraging for something to wear. A tank half-buried in one of the laundry piles catches his eye – the thin material and deep, loose neckline would be cool in the current summer heat. He pulls it over his head, feeling instantly better now that he’s clad in leopard print.

As he’s tugging on a pair of jeans (ripped and black, of course), something catches his eye in his mirrored reflection. He blinks. Then squints. It looks like there’s…gold glitter? on his chest. He blinks again, then slowly looks down from the reflection to his own chest—

To find a fine dusting of…

Hair.

Chest hair.

Yuri Plisetsky screams.

This rouses Potya, who affixes him with a condescending stare, as if to say ‘don’t you know what chest hair is, puny human, look at my glorious chest floof’ before jumping off the bed and stalking out the door in a huff.

‘Well of course I know what damned chest hair is. That Christophe has it and his disgusting costumes show it off. And I don’t do gross things like that. How the hell did I not notice this before?’ he curses internally. Desperate, he ransacks the other laundry piles, flinging clothes everywhere but none of the other tops _feel_ right.

With an anguished cry, he flops down on his bed.

On the table, his phone pings and lights up. He eyes it warily, before deciding to sit up and read it. He taps on [1] new message from Old Hag:

Remember our waffles date (;

He starts composing a reply:

 

> I’m not an old hag like you ofc my memory is still good—

But pauses before hitting the send button. He clears the text and tries again:

 

> Who wants to shop with an old hag—

This he clears too.

 

> Yura? I can see you typing I know you are awake  
>  Come on it’s our off-day waffles ritual  
>  Wafflessssss

He slumps, resigned. Of course he wants waffles (damn are they fantastic) but he can’t possibly go out in public with chest hair like this. It is simply uncool. Well he’d just have to call Mila that old hag and fake having the flu.

But waffles—

No buts.

“Yo Yura what’s up.”

He puts on his best impression of a Very Sick Cough. “I am sick. I can’t go.”

“Sick my ass don’t give me that bullshit that coughing is obviously fake. What’s up?”

“…”

“Yura? Don’t make me go over there and drag your ass out.”

“I don’t feel like going out today.”

“Oh why? Don’t you want waffles? Or…do you have a date with someone instead? Ohoho.”

“Of course I want waffles damn it. But…I just can’t, okay?” He chooses to let the second question slide, smiling smugly for the briefest moment before reassuming his scowl. For good measure he scowls at his newly-discovered chest hair as well.

“Aww but I want both chocolate and strawberry ice cream flavours and I can’t possibly eat both on my own, Yura. You have to eat them too so we can split half each.”

He chews his lip. “You…can’t laugh okay. If you do I’m never sharing waffles with you. Ever again. Or I’ll order vanilla flavour and make you eat it.”

A short pause on the other end, then “No promises but I’ll try.”

He sighs. It was better than nothing. “I…have chest hair and it’s visible and it’s uncool.”

Laughter erupts on the other side of the receiver.

“THAT’S IT OLD HAG I’M NEVER—“

“WAIT, wait Yura,” Mila manages to get out between laughs. “So what’s the problem?”

“It’s weird and gross and people are gonna stare at it.”

“Yea well but they’re also not gonna care. Look, Potya has fur on her body but do you think it’s weird and gross?”

“Hell no her fur is the softest fluffiest shit. It’s glorious. It’s magnificent. It’s a part of her.”

“Precisely. Just as this is a part of you now.”

“But I’m not a cat I don’t need hair on my chest.”

“Tell you what, when you grow enough you can dye patterns into it. Tiger stripes, leopard spots, whatever the hell you want.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I’d help you if you want.”

He looks down at the light dusting of fine blond hairs on his chest. ‘Perhaps they aren’t completely disgusting…’

“Deal. Let’s go get waffles.”

Yuri Plisetsky strides down the boulevard towards his usual waffles shop, ignoring the people who turn their heads. He knows he looks confident and cool and he’s on a mission to get waffles today. The summer sun is warm on his skin, but the occasional breeze is a bitingly cold reminder that spring is just over. He barely shivers though; perhaps chest hair isn’t all that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm actually planning this as a series of short chapters on how he deals with different aspects puberty (with the support of people around him), so please forgive me if this is too short >< more is coming! i swear!


End file.
